Page 29 of The Love Ambush (The Sullivans #1)

Levi

F inding my way around a town this small shouldn’t be difficult, but I have to stop on the corner of Main and Snowman Street to text Josephine and ask for help.

“Everything okay?” Gentry asks.

“Just need directions.”

“If there are directions, there must be a specific place we’re going.”

“Uh-huh.” I bite back my smile.

“So, where is it?”

“You’ll find out when we get there.” If we get there.

I tilt the phone away from Gentry as a text comes in from Annabelle. She still hasn’t found anything damning about Gentry’s father. He’s got no arrests or police record, not even a speeding ticket.

I need to do some digging myself. I have a bad feeling about Gentry’s Dad and I’m not letting him come to this wedding until I’m sure I can prevent any and every possible disaster. I’m just not sure when I’ll get the time.

Josephine texts back right away, and I realize where I went wrong.

“Okay,” I say. “We need to take a left.”

“And go where?” she asks.

“To the place we’re going.”

“And what if I don’t want to go there?” she asks. “What if you drag me all the way there and what I really want is to buy chocolate from that candy store Sophie told me about?”

“We can stop there after.”

She huffs in annoyance, but when I glance over at her, she looks quickly away, hiding a smile.

Two blocks later, we’re standing in front of the Hollyberry Art Gallery. Gentry looks up at the sign, then over at me, then back at the sign.

“What are we doing here?” she asks warily.

Not the reaction I was expecting, but I can work with it. “You still love art, right? I thought you’d like to see the gallery.”

She pulls her hand from mine and wraps her arms around her waist. “I do.” She looks up at me, her eyes glistening. “I’m just not sure I can handle it.” She shakes her head and scrunches up her adorable nose. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe I’m having this reaction. I’m fine. It’s fine. Let’s go in.”

I cannot stand here while she’s upset and not pull her into my arms. She hugs me back immediately and sniffles. “If you don’t want to go in, we’ll find something else to do. But you should know, they’ve got a canvas and paints set up for you inside if you want it.”

She shudders against me. “I don’t know if I should.”

It twists something deep inside of me that she’s decided doing something she loves isn’t allowed. She’s clearly been way too strict with herself, and I fully accept the job of reminding her how to have fun again. “Of course you should. It’s okay to have something for yourself.”

She hugs me tighter. “I’m afraid if I start again, I won’t be able to stop and, Levi, I forget everything when I paint. I forget the world around me. I can’t be a good guardian if I lose myself to painting.”

“I promise I won’t let that happen.” Though, I definitely intend to push her to do what makes her happy more often.

“You can’t make that promise.” She shivers again, then tilts her head back and looks up at me. “You really did this for me?”

“Of course. I could hear in your voice how much you missed it the other night, and Josephine is friends with the gallery owner. She deserves most of the credit.”

She pops onto her toes and kisses me quickly. “Thank you.”

I keep an arm around her shoulders as I turn us and open the gallery door. I expect her to ask where she’s been set up to paint, but she takes her time looking at each photograph and painting and collage on the walls. She asks the gallery owner, Holly Winslow, a million questions.

I love to see her so excited, but I’m yawning and bored out of my mind about twenty minutes in.

“You can go,” Holly says when she notices my boredom. “I’ll help Gentry with everything she needs.”

I hadn’t really thought about what I’d do while Gentry painted. “Do you want me to stay?” I ask Gentry.

She barely glances up from the sculpture of a railroad track she’s staring at. “Hmmm?”

“Do you want me to stay and watch you paint?”

Her expression is so horrified, I immediately know her answer.

I hold up a hand. “No problem. I’ll find something to keep me busy. Text me when you’re ready to go back to the farm?”

“Thank you, Levi.” She gives me a quick, hard hug, and goes back to the sculpture.

As soon as I’m outside, I send a quick text to Sophie, telling her to let me know when the movie’s over and not to contact Gentry. She must still be in the theater, because she doesn’t respond.

I also text Brodie, letting him know to leave Gentry alone and to get in touch with me if he needs anything. I should have just taken Gentry’s phone, but then she’d have no way to reach me when she’s done.

And now, I’ve got nothing to do, nowhere to be, and I have no earthly idea what to do with myself. So, I call Deacon to check in on the business.

“Oh, now you decide to call me back,” Deacon says.

“Did you call?” I know he called. He’s also texted. I hacked into his account and made him the contact for all the dating website matches, because I want nothing to do with this impending shitshow of a prank.

“I’m going to blame this whole thing on you if this goes bad.”

“Is it going bad?” The part of me that loves drama and would love to see Deacon get the bad end of this prank is rubbing its hands together in delight.

“I said if it goes bad, idiot. I know you’re over there hoping to see this blow up in my face, but I’ve got a woman on the hook who seems perfect for our grumphead Sebastian.”

Grumphead? Deacon always has had a colorful way with words. “So, when’s the first date?”

“Uh, I don’t know yet. I’m still chatting with her to make sure she’s the right one and to prepare her for Sebastian. If we send her in blind, she’ll run in the opposite direction like a black snake who just bumped into my steel-toed boot.”

“You mean slither?”

“You know what I mean. She seems great.”

“So, you’ve told her she’s not actually talking to Sebastian and you’re telling her how great he is?”

“I’m not going to admit to her this is a set-up right out of the gate. No way she’ll stick around.”

“So you’re the voice of Sebastian? Great plan, genius.”

“I can channel Sebastian like I’m wearing his skin, none of which I’d have to do if you’d done your part.”

“I would have told her upfront this is a set-up and sent her a picture of Sebastian in the gym. Women love him until he opens his mouth.”

“Dang it,” he says. “That’s not a bad idea. But I’m too deep in this now, bro. I can’t tell her the truth.”

I laugh. “I just hope I’m back in time to see Sebastian beat the shit out of you.”

“Not happening. This woman is perfect. She’s so smart, and she’s fucking gorgeous. She doesn’t fall for any of my, I mean Sebastian’s, shit. They’re soul mates.”

“Uh-huh. How’s the business going? You get started on the Patrick house yet?”

He fills me in as I mosey down the vibrant main street of Yuletide, Colorado.

It’s way too early for all of this Christmas cheer, but I’m in a great mood and primed to be sucked in.

I can picture Gentry next to me by the Christmas tree, maybe while I help her stock it for her sisters, and then kissing her in front of a roaring fire, while—

“Are you even listening, Levi?”

Shit, typically nothing can distract me from business. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Right. What I was saying is, enjoy your vacation, loser. We’ve got everything covered here.”

Then my brother, my own flesh and blood, hangs up on me.

I stare at my phone for a long moment, like I can yell at it and Deacon can somehow hear me. Then, I try calling Cash, Ryland, and finally, Sebastian, but none of them answer. They’re either all busy or Deacon told them not to answer.

I text the group chat, which has been oddly silent since I arrived in Colorado.

Me: Hey assholes, someone pick up the phone and tell me how things are going with the Patrick house.

Deacon: No one’s going to answer you. I told them your phone has been hacked and they should ignore you if you try to contact them.

What the hell? I stare at my phone some more. Why would anyone hack my phone just to talk to my brothers? It doesn’t even make sense.

They’ve almost certainly started a new group text thread and left me out of it. Luckily for me, I can also play that game. I create a new text thread, one without Deacon.

Me: Hey, knuckleheads. People don’t hack phones to get in on boring family discussions. Deacon’s just trying to keep me out of the loop.

Cash: I wondered about that.

Sebastian: No shit. But we don’t need you, so I let him have his fun.

There’s Sebastian with his super-sweet bedside manner. Fortunately, I’m immune to his rudeness.

Me: What’s going on with the Patrick house?

Sebastian: What part of we don’t need you did you not understand? I’m hanging up now.

Cash: He just put his phone down like he’s hanging up a landline from the eighteen hundreds. He is so old.

Me: Hey, buddy. Talk to me about the Patrick house.

Cash: Deacon threatened to post an incriminating video of me if I tell you anything.

Me: Ryland? Favorite brother of mine?

Ryland: You’re annoying me. Go bother someone else.

Me: I hate you all. If you think whatever Deacon is going to do to you is scary, wait until you hear what I’m going to do if you don’t tell me.

Ryland: We’re not afraid of Deacon, Levi. We’re hoping a vacation will make you less annoying.

Me: Damn, Ry. And I thought you were the nice one.

Ryland: None of you Neanderthals listen to nice. If I tell you we all just want you to have a fun, relaxing vacation, will you believe me?

Me: Seems suspect.

Ryland: Exactly.

And that’s it. None of them will tell me any more. And I’m still alone with nothing to do. How the hell does a person even relax? I could relax if I knew the Patrick house was going well.

Okay, fine. I probably wouldn’t relax, but I’d feel better. For about five minutes, until I’d wonder if Sebastian remembered that the homeowner wanted built-in bookshelves only on three walls of the addition.